Illium Dreams
by Joryn282
Summary: ME fic inspired by Burn Notice. Jackson Carver, a former N7, wakes up one day on Illium with no idea why he's there and no way to leave. This is a bit of an experiment. Hope you all like it.
1. Chapter 1

**Illium Dreams**

**No Money, No Friends, and Thousands of Light-Years from Home**

**Year 2195 – Minneapolis, Minnesota:**

"Barkeep! Another whiskey!" Jackson ordered.

"This is your tenth one, sir. You sure you don't want some water instead?" the bartender asked.

"Just keep 'em comin'," he said. "I'm good for it."

Oldies music pounded from the speakers. The old stuff, like metal, always helped him relax, something which he needed. The bartender slid the rocks glass filled with whiskey across the mahogany bar. Jackson caught the glass as a well-dressed man in a suit took a seat next to him at the bar.

"I'll have what he's having," the stranger ordered.

Jackson looked at the stranger out of the corner of his eye as he downed another drink. The stranger took his own drink and looked right at him.

"You look like someone who is trying to forget something. Want to talk about it?" the stranger asked.

"What, are you some sort of shrink?" Jackson asked.

"Consider me a concerned patron sharing a drink with you."

"Well, my friend, you're looking at the newly re-civilized Jackson Carver. Former N7 and discharged from the Alliance for bullshit reasons." He raised his empty glass in a mock toast, which the stranger met with a toast of his own. "Barkeep! Another!"

"May I ask what those bullshit reasons are?" the stranger asked.

Usually, he wouldn't talk to some random stranger about this stuff, but between anger and alcohol, right now he just didn't care.

"The docs said I have PTSD, or some shit like that. You have a couple of nightmares, freeze during some training, and they start questioning everything."

"Nightmares? From the Reaper War?"

"Yeah. I saw friends killed in gruesome ways. Bullet wounds are one thing, but seeing a friend get ripped in half by one of those brute things, hearing his screams in the brief time he was alive as he bled out? The doctors can say what they want, but no matter how healthy a mind is, you don't forget things like that."

"I hear ya," the stranger said. "Get this man another drink. He's a hero of the Reaper War so his tab is on me."

Jackson closed his eyes and massaged his temples, trying to make the images of the Reaper War, made all the more surreal by his addled brain, go away. He heard the clink of a glass placed in front of him as he massaged his eyeballs.

"Thanks for the drinks, but I should probably be going," he said.

He started to leave but the stranger grabbed his arm.

"Have this last drink while I call a cab for you."

Jackson obliged, sitting back down while the stranger walked outside. A few minutes later he finished his drink and stumbled out of the bar. The stranger waited for him by a cab and opened a door for him.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked the stranger.

"Just making sure you get home safely, Mr. Carver."

He got into the taxi, no longer feeling like questioning the man, who climbed in beside him.

"I think this car was a good idea. I … a … I feel funny."

"You'll be safe, Mr. Carver. We'll take good care of you," the stranger said.

"We'll … wha?" he started to ask.

The inside of the car spun, and his world faded to black as he slumped over in his seat.

* * *

Jackson stirred out of sleep, massaging his temples because of the headache left over from the night before. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, he found himself in an unfamiliar place.

"What happened last night?" Jackson asked as he sat up. "Where am I?

He looked around at the room. Its design wasn't human, though he couldn't quite place what it was.

"Hello?" he asked, hoping he could get some answers.

_Why's it so cold in here?_

He got out of the soft bed and searched for some way to turn up the temperature. He found a wall panel which had a readout he wasn't familiar with. He scrolled through the different temp settings until he found Celsius.

_Twenty-three degrees? Why am I cold?_

"At least I'm still wearing my clothes," he said while looking in a nearby mirror. "News."

_Hopefully, that will tell me where I am._

A professional, female voice responded, blurting out area news.

"It's been ten years since Nassana Dantius was found murdered in her office at the unfinished Dantius Towers. Now, some enterprising individuals have decided to buy the unfinished towers …"

He tuned out most of the rest of the report, not caring about whoever this Dantius person is.

"… More news after the weather. It's a sunny day in Nos Astra, but enjoy it while it lasts …"

"Nos Astra?" Jackson asked, confused. "Why does that sound familiar?"

He rushed to one of the windows and opened the curtain, wincing in the bright light. Once his vision adjusted, he saw a beach far below, dotted with people either lying down or moving about. Buildings stretched along the beach to either side of the one he looked out from.

"Are those asari?" he asked, noting the tiny blue bodies walking along the beach. "Oh god! Where the fuck am I?"

He searched the room, hoping to find clues as to where he was and why he was there. Other things started to jump out at him as off. He opened the closet in the bedroom to find it fully stocked with clothes he didn't remember buying but were all in his size. He found the bathroom stocked with hygiene supplies. He rushed to the kitchen and found a fridge filled with his favorite foods and drinks.

"Holy shit!"

He looked at the room's bar, and that's when he found the datapad. A light blinked on it, indicating it had a message.

"Hello, Mr. Carver. We're sorry for any inconvenience we may have caused. We hope the the cryo-stasis we put you in didn't cause too much discomfort upon waking up. We wanted to greet you personally, but circumstances, we're afraid, keep us from doing so. We hope you like the room. It is paid for and stocked with everything we know you like. We're sure you're wondering why you are here. Everything will be revealed to you in time. For now, we suggest that you enjoy yourself and relax until we get a hold of you again. Welcome to Illium, Mr. Carver."

Jackson stared at the datapad, dumbfounded, and hoping more answers were forthcoming. When nothing more happened, he tried to play the message again, only to find that it deleted itself. He put the datapad down and went back to the bedroom, sitting down on the bed and covering his face with his hands.

"This is just a dream. This is just a dream. You'll wake up soon and find yourself laying on a bench outside a bar or something."

He looked up, only seeing the same bedroom he woke up in earlier.

"Shit!" he cried.

He stood up and paced around the room.

"Alright, Jackson," he said. "Pull yourself together. This isn't the first time you've found yourself in a weird situation. You need to figure out what's going on."

He went to the window and looked down to the beach.

"If this really is Illium, then there's gotta be a way off this rock."

He headed for the door but stopped short and sniffed under his arms.

"I should take a shower first."

* * *

Nos Astra's busy spaceport bustled with activity. The sights and smells played with Jackson's senses, but the asari in front of him had all his attention.

"What do you mean I can't leave the planet?" Jackson asked. He did his best to control his anger.

"I'm sorry, sir. In our system it says you're barred from any space travel. It's a planet-wide hold on your travel privileges," the asari explained.

"Can I talk to someone in charge, please? Anyone able to tell me why I've been barred from travel?" Jackson asked, getting more frustrated with every moment.

"Perhaps I can help you, Mr. Carver," a salarian offered.

"And who are you?" Jackson asked.

Instead of answering him, the salarian handed him a datapad and rushed off.

"Great. Another datapad. I wonder what this one says?" Jackson found a secluded place to listen to the message.

"Mr. Carver. we're sorry to inform you that you won't be leaving Illium anytime soon. We have plans for you and we suggest you relax until we contact you with … let's call them job opportunities. Have a good day, Mr. Carver."

The datapad automatically deleted the file once it was done.

"Yeah, we'll see about that, assholes," Jackson said.

He made his way to the taxi stand and got into a waiting cab.

"Take me to the nearest cargo port," he told the driver.

_If I can't leave legally, maybe I can smuggled._

Several minutes passed, minutes Jackson spent staring at the datapad the salarian handed to him.

"This is crazy," he mumbled.

"What was that?" the driver asked.

"Nothing. Sorry."

The car touched down at the cargo port, but Jackson's plan met a major setback when he tried to pay the driver.

"What the hell? I had way more creds than this!" He looked at the driver, a turian, who glared at him from the front seat. "I swear I have creds. Just give me a moment to find them."

"Whatever. I'll give you a couple of minutes to transfer the creds, after that we'll figure something else out," the driver said.

"Dammit! Give me a break!" Jackson looked at the datapad from his mysterious kidnappers. "This datapad is a high end model, probably worth several thousand credits. Should be enough for this trip and to take me back to my apartment."

"You're right, but I'm not waiting," the driver said.

"You won't have to, without creds there's no reason for me to find a ship right now." Jackson got back into the cab. "Let's go."

Later, Jackson sat on the couch in his new apartment with a bottle of Thessian Red he found in the apartment's bar.

"They really thought of everything, didn't they," he said, sighing. "No money, no friends, and a swanky, fully furnished apartment on a planet thousands of lightyears from home. Yeah, Jackson, you're having a good day."

He got up, took the bottle and walked over to a large picture window that overlooked the Nos Astra coastline. Night fell on his way back to the apartment, but the party on the beach didn't end when Tasale set. Lights glowed across the beach and he could see tiny bodies moving about in the glow.

"Kinda wish I was down there." He glanced around the apartment and screamed, "But somebody took all my money! You're listening, right?! Of course you are! Even the stupid flappy plants by the vid screen are probably bugged!" He gestured to one of the ferns. "Sorry you were dragged into this."

Jackson peered through the window again, watching what looked like a sort of beach volleyball game start up. Looked like there were asari, turians, humans, and even a few quarians, though they still wore their enviro-suits.

"That must take some of the fun out of it."

He went back to the couch and sat down, taking a drink straight from the bottle.

"I guess I'll try and find a way to make some money tomorrow." He looked at one of the ferns again. "Shhhh, don't tell them I said that." He chuckled and put the bottle down on the coffee table. "I think I've had enough."

Jackson turned on the vid-screen. An asari adult cartoon lit up the screen, making him wince.

"Yay late night vids," he said while he lay down on the couch.

Despite the flashy lights and moaning noises, he dozed off, dreaming of weird cartoons and ferns wearing enviro-suits.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thievery is a Girl's Favorite Pastime**

**Nos Astra – Day Two:**

"What do you mean I'm unemployable?" Jackson cried.

He sat across the desk from an imperious-looking asari in an unemployment bureau, hoping to find some temporary work until he had enough money to leave Illium.

"There's a mark on your record that indicates you as a high risk for employers," the asari explained. "I'm sorry, but we can't help you here. There may be some places that might employ you, but we won't accept responsibility for you."

"How do I even have a record? I've never been on this planet before."

"We transferred your records from Earth, negative mark and all," the asari explained.

Jackson sighed. "Do you have a list of employers that might take me in at least?" he asked.

"No. I do have a list of companies dealing in indentured servitude, though. You could go through them and your negative mark would be gone by the time your contract is over."

"No, thanks. That's not an option."

"Then I'm sorry, Mr. Carver, but we can't help you here," the asari said.

"Yeah, you said that already. Thanks anyways," Jackson replied.

He got up and left the bureau.

"Well, now what, Jackson?"

He headed to a taxi platform and went back to apartment. Once there he made himself some food out of the provisions in the apartment.

"Let's see what they provided me. We have bacon, good. Eggs, cheese, milk … steak. Mmmmm, steak." He looked around the kitchen area seeing what cooking devices were provided. "C'mon, grill. Damn. No grill."

He grabbed the bacon and eggs to prepare them when he heard his front door hiss open.

He grabbed a kitchen knife and headed for the door. Before he reached it, though, he heard a familiar voice.

"Hello, Mr. Carver," a high voice said behind him.

Jackson spun to face the intruder, taking on a defensive posture with the knife extended in front of him. A salarian, wearing a tailored pant-suit, sat on one of the chairs in the living room.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I'm here to give you your first mission, Mr. Carver," the salarian answered, a female by the tone of her voice.

"A mission?" He lowered the knife and placed it on the counter.

"Yes. We brought you here for a reason. You'll work for us, conducting various covert missions, and in return, you get paid."

"By us, you mean the STG? I'm not a double agent."

The salarian laughed.

"I'm a member of an organization that doesn't answer to a governing body. Please, have a seat," she said.

He took a seat across from the salarian, who handed him a datapad.

"Ah, another datapad, wonderful."

"That datapad has all the information you need for your mission. We're starting you off simple."

"Gee, thanks," he said. "Why should I do this?"

"Money? Because your other choices are extremely limited? It's this, or disappear. We know you tried to find a job today. Know this, even companies dealing in indentured servitude won't touch you."

Jackson sighed and activated the datapad. Detailed schematics of a secure warehouse displayed on the screen along with a target.

"A theft job? You do realize what I did in the Alliance, I assume? Breaking and entering wasn't a skill-set I learned."

He placed the datapad on the counter.

"I won't do it. I'm not a thief," he said. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, trying to look defiant.

"You don't have much of a choice. And as far as not being a thief, don't worry, you'll have help," the salarian informed him.

He continued to try and look defiant, though he could tell it wasn't working.

"Fine. What kind of help?" he asked.

"All of that is in the datapad. I'm sorry, Mr. Carver, but it's time for me to go."

The salarian got up and headed for the door.

"Wait!" Jackson called. "What's your name? What's the organization?"

"You don't need to know that, for now. We'll see how this mission goes first. Good luck, Mr. Carver."

The salarian left Jackson alone to study the datapad. He decided to finish preparing lunch before he sat down with it.

"All right, mysterious people. What exactly do you have in store for me?"

* * *

Night fell on Nos Astra as Jackson made his way to the secure warehouse. He would meet a professional thief the organization hired for this job there, and she would help him with the heist.

"All right, 2021, 2022, and here we are, 2023," Jackson said.

He looked around when he reached the warehouse, but he didn't see anyone waiting for him.

"Where are you?" he whispered.

He waited a few moments before going for his datapad. When he reached for it, however, it wasn't there.

"What the hell?"

He looked around, seeing if he dropped it, and that's when he heard a modulated voice giggling.

"You'd think they'd tell you more about me, since you'll be watching my back and all," the voice said from a nearby alleyway.

He followed the voice into the alley until he found the owner, a quarian wearing all black, including her visor. She sat on a crate and held his datapad, looking at her profile.

"They didn't get the hips right." She hopped off the crate and approached him, exaggerating the sway in her hips. "Too narrow."

Jackson watched her saunter by him. She brushed against him and placed his datapad back into his pocket.

"Lia'Orzh I presume," he greeted her.

She giggled, which sounded strangely sweet.

"So formal. Please, call me Lia." She grabbed his hand and led him further into the alley to a black skycar.

"Nice car," he said.

"It's an Elkoss Fury in Spectre black." She opened a side panel and removed a black weapons case, which she handed to him. "For you, but only because you're cute."

He placed the case on a nearby crate and opened it to reveal a sleek-looking black pistol with a suppressor. A pair of sunglasses also resided in the case. They were the same color as the pistol.

"An M-11; very nice," he observed.

"Actually, no. It's a new model, not even available on the market yet." She grabbed the pistol from his hands and faced him. "Let me introduce you to the M-12. As you noticed, it looks like the M-11. It has some upgrades though." She pointed to a switch at the top of the pistol. "This activates an enhanced scope with infrared, night vision, and software that points out vital areas based on species." She then pushed a button at the bottom of the muzzle, and a small box popped out. "This is a combination viridian laser, which is easier to see than your standard crimson laser, and a flashlight made to be used with those glasses in the case. It emits a specific light frequency so it can't be seen by anyone not using those glasses, even vorcha."

"Impressive. Where did you get it?" he asked.

She looked at him briefly before answering.

"I found it. Actually, I found two." She turned and pointed to one attached to her belt at the small of her back. "I made it so my visor can work like the glasses."

"And you're just giving this to me?"

"I was told to give you a weapon when you got here. I originally planned to give you an old M-3 Predator that I had lying around, but then I saw you, and decided you deserved something better."

"Thanks, I guess," he said.

He placed the pistol on his hip and put the glasses in one of his pockets. She took the case and placed it back in her car.

"My name's Jackson, by the way."

"I know, they told me that much at least." She spun toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him. "It's nice to meet you, Jackson Carver."

She went back to her car and started grabbing equipment.

"I have to admit," Jackson said. "You're not what I expected."

"Oh? How so?" Lia asked.

She approached him again, this time with various pieces of equipment attached to her suit.

"You're very friendly, and talkative. I expected some no-nonsense, grim person when I got here," he explained. "This is turning out to be somewhat fun."

"Good! Gotta have fun in this job."

She looked him over. He made sure he wore black as well so he hoped she was satisfied.

"You look ready to go. You remember your part?" she asked.

"I cover you and take possession of the item once you've gotten it," he said.

"Good. There are five guards in there. One watches the security feeds while the other four patrol the warehouse," she explained. "I prefer not to shoot anyone unless absolutely necessary."

"Works for me. I'm not exactly here because I want to be, but because I have no choice."

"Really?

"Yeah, long story. Point is, I don't feel like shooting people," Jackson said. His gaze fell and he stared at a blemish in the concrete near his feet.

"That's another story, isn't it?" she observed.

He didn't answer, instead turning his gaze to the warehouse. He felt a three-fingered hand placed on his back.

"If we do this right, we won't have to shoot anyone. Once we're inside, follow my lead, and they won't even know we're there." She stepped in front of him and faced him while bringing up her omni-tool to prepare it. "Here, let's sync our omni-tools. That way you can view the security feeds as well."

"Actually, I don't have one of those. Mine was taken," he said.

"Taken? How?"

"It's part of that long story I mentioned earlier."

"You'll have to tell it to me sometime. I don't have any spares on me so you'll need to trust and follow me closely. Understood?"

"Yeah," Jackson replied.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He looked at Lia, who still stood in front of him, watching him. He smiled at her.

"I'm ready to go when you are," he announced.

"Then let's get to work," she said.

The door hissed open and he followed Lia in. He turned on the light of his M-12 and then put the glasses on, marveling how the room seemed to light up, though only he and Lia could actually see the light.

"These things are cool," he whispered.

He heard a quiet giggle from Lia. She guided him through a labyrinth of crates and shelves through the warehouse floor. She stopped and indicated for him to be quiet. He heard footsteps approaching, and saw a beam of a light sweeping along some of the crates. Lia tugged at his arms, and she led him down another row to avoid the guard.

"How do you know where to go to avoid the security cameras?" he whispered when they got far enough away from the guard.

"My omni-tool is sending the feeds to my visor's heads-up display," she responded.

"Nice."

She continued to lead him until they arrived at a corridor. She hugged the wall and peered around the corner.

"All right, Jackson," Lia whispered. "There is a camera at the end of the corridor. I'm going to overload it and then we'll run for the lift. We need to be quick because a call will go out to the nearest guard to investigate."

He tapped her arm to indicate he was ready. She brought her omni-tool up in a dimmed setting and shortly after he heard the camera malfunction. She pulled him into the corridor with her and they both ran for the lift at the end. She used her omni-tool while they ran. She used it to call the elevator, which arrived by the time they got there.

"Good thing it was on the second floor," she whispered.

The doors opened just before they reached the lift, and they rushed inside. He saw a beam of light in the warehouse getting closer as one of the guards approached to investigate. The lift doors closed before the guard entered the corridor, though, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"You didn't think we'd actually get caught, did you?" Lia asked.

"I always get a little nervous at times like this. Happened to me on covert missions as an

N7 as well," he explained.

"Well, you can relax, dear. You're in good hands. I've never been caught."

"Forgive me if I remain a little on edge till we're done."

"Aww, you need to relax a little. This is fun." She bumped her hips into him, making him smile. "There, that's better."

They both ducked to the side when the doors opened, and peered out, using their weapons to light up the corridor.

"Good. No guards," she whispered.

"What about the camera?" he asked, pointing to a spot above the elevator.

"Just follow me. We don't need to go in its field-of-view."

Instead of going straight out, Lia left the elevator, heading to the right while hugging the wall. Jackson followed her. She stopped hugging the wall after a couple of meters. Doors lined the corridor they stood in. Most were minimum security, possibly offices of some sort. Lia ignored most of them, though, instead heading for a more secure-looking door at the end.

"Hold on, this'll take but a second," Lia said.

Her omni-tool flashed open and she started hacking the locking mechanism. He heard her humming the tune to an Expel 10 song as she worked. He continued to watch the corridor, pistol drawn but pointed at the ground as he backed up to Lia.

"Expel 10, huh?" he asked.

"They're a part of a playlist I usually have playing in my helmet while I work on my own," she explained.

The door hissed open and he followed her into the dark room.

"No alarms?" he asked.

"I disabled them with the door."

"Nice!"

She walked to a desk and felt around until he heard a click. A panel on the wall slid open to reveal a large vault.

"Watch the door," she commanded. "This could take a while."

He took up a position in the room where he could watch the door and Lia as well. He expected her to use her omni-tool again, but this time she used some sort of disc that she attached to the vault. The disc expanded and omni interfaces flashed open along the door of the vault. She manipulated the various interfaces that sprang up, once again humming as she worked. It took several minutes before he heard a loud, mechanical click and the vault door opened. Lia scanned through the contents of the vault until she found what she looked for.

"There you are," he heard her say.

An alarm went off when she took the item from the shelf.

"Shit! Pressure sensor!" she cried. "That wasn't in the vault schematics." She rushed out of the vault. "Time to go!"

Jackson rushed to the door and opened it enough to look outside.

"It's clear, for now!" he yelled to be heard above the alarm.

"We're not leaving that way! They'll block the exits!"

"Then how will we …"

Lia cut him short, handing him the item and giggling as she ran past. She ran for the large window of the office that overlooked the city and placed a small device on it. Before he could see what it was, though, a large turian forced open the door. The turian rushed toward Jackson, but he sidestepped the guard and grabbed the arm that held a pistol. He grunted as he twisted the turian's wrist, snapping it and causing the weapon to drop. The turian screamed, and the pain slowed his reaction time. He growled and took a swing at Jackson with boot knife in his good hand. Jackson avoided the knife and retaliated with a kick to the back of the knee, making the turian kneel. He turned and glared at Jackson, but the glare turned to confusion when he saw the sympathetic look Jackson gave him.

"I'm sorry," Jackson said. He ended the confrontation by bringing the grip of his pistol down on the back of the turian's head, just under the crests. The turian crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

"Do you always apologize to your opponents? Lia asked."

"Only when they're just doing their job."

The window shattered, making him jump, and providing them a means of escape.

"How did it do that without an explosion?" he asked, accepting a rope from Lia.

"It vibrates at a frequency that shatters the glass," she explained as she tied her own rope to an anchor.

"You know? I'm starting to like you and all your handy toys." he said. He winked at her as they positioned themselves on the other side of the window.

"I have a lot more I'll have to show you sometime," she said. She laughed and started her descent down the side of the building.

He heard shouting from the corridor, and lights started turning on. He followed after Lia, sliding down the rope until he landed on the ground. Lia waited for him by the alley where she hid her car and beckoned him over. He followed her to her car and climbed in. They sped off, the rest of the guards not seeing them until all they could see were their tail lights.

"I'll drop you off at a taxi platform and there we'll part ways," Lia said.

"Thanks for the ride, Lia."

"No problem. I couldn't leave you there to be captured. I wouldn't have gotten paid otherwise."

He smiled and felt her place a hand on his.

"I hope we get to work together again. That was fun. Put in a good word for me," she said.

"Will do," Jackson replied.

* * *

Jackson reached his apartment to find his door unlocked and the alarm disabled. He could see lights on inside and smelled food being cooked. He pulled his new gun and quietly entered the apartment, hoping not to spook whoever trespassed in his apartment.

"Who's there!?" he called.

"Ah! Mr. Carver! You're home!" a familiar voice called from the kitchen.

He rushed to the kitchen to find the salarian agent he met earlier that morning in there cooking food.

"Please! Have something to eat. I'm sure you're hungry after that job."

"What the hell are you doing here!?"

"I'm here to debrief you and pick up the item. I also made some food for you."

He put the gun away, but eyed the salarian, making sure she didn't try something funny.

The salarian placed a plate of food in front of him. He took the food, some sort of dish made with noodles and steak that he wasn't familiar with. It tasted good, though.

"Contrary to what you may think, we're not your enemies. Our … measures to get you here were extreme, yes, but we needed to get you here in absolute secrecy."

"Right. And your first job for me was a theft job. Why should I trust people who sanction illegal actions?"

"Oh please, Mr. Carver. Some of your work in the N7 program wasn't exactly legal. Espionage, staging coups, you name it, you had a part in it. All we've done is privatize what you did for a mere pittance before."

"So you're a mercenary group?" Jackson asked.

"Nothing nearly so simple. Suffice it to say, we intend to employ you in what you do best, but paying you a lot more for it."

Jackson sighed and took another bite of his meal. "If this is going to be a regular occurrence, perhaps you can at least give me your name," he said.

The salarian looked at him a moment, as if deciding what to do, before she answered.

"I guess you've earned that much. My name is Shiova Guras. Don't ask for more, though. That's all you get."

"Shiova. That'll do."

"Good. I understand you have something for me," Shiova said.

Jackson dug into one of his pockets and handed the item to her. It looked like some sort of tiny circuit board.

"Thank you. And this is yours," she said and handed him a datapad.

"Another one?" Jackson asked. "You guys must provide a lot of business for this company."

Shiova laughed.

"You'll like this one. It has the info for your new bank account. This is the account we will use to pay you. We also took the liberty to transfer the credits from your old account into this one," she explained.

"Gee. Thanks," he said.

He accessed the datapad and just about spit out his food when he saw the figure.

"That's more than I make in a month!"

"I'm glad you're satisfied. I should inform you, though, that you cannot leave the planet without our permission at this point in our relationship. Even the smugglers can't take you."

"Our relationship? When do I get to take you to bed?" he asked.

Shiova scowled at him.

"Don't be crude, Mr. Carver."

He smiled, enjoying that he got under her skin.

"How did Miss Lia'Orzh work out?" she asked, changing the subject.

"She was very good. I recommend her for future ops," he said.

"Excellent! We will keep that in mind. It's been a pleasure, Mr. Carver. I will take my leave now and let you finish your food. I'll contact you again when we have a new job for you."

Shiova left the apartment. He finished the plate and changed out of his clothes afterwards.

_Remember to ask her about that recipe._

He finished changing and went to the couch, ready to watch some vids and relax. He looked at the ferns before he turned on the vid screen.

"I should have asked you if the ferns are in on it," he said, imagining that Shiova, or someone, was listening in.

He turned on the vid screen, and once again was accosted by crazy, adult, asari cartoons.

He turned off the screen in response.

"You know what? I think I'll sleep in the bed this time."

* * *

**A/N:** I want to give a shout out to Palaven Blues for helping me out by being a beta for my story. I hope everyone likes it.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Captain and the Quarian**

**New York - 2186:**

"Wake up, sleepy head."

Jackson heard a voice in his head, distant and fuzzy. The voice faded away, though, soon overtaken by the sounds of battle. Roars, shrieks, weapons fire and shouts from his comrades permeated the air of the battlefield. The area of New York known as Old Time Square lay in ruins around him. Giant signs, masonry, and other preserved relics of a bygone age now lay scattered along the ruined streets.

His patrol was one of a few left since the Alliance recalled a significant amount of Earth's remaining forces to London, where the Reapers were amassing as well. He wanted to go, but his new orders were clear. With the greatly reduced Reaper presence in New York, he was to seek out any survivors hiding in the ruins, and destroy any pockets of Reaper forces left behind.

The piercing cry of a banshee sliced through the air, causing some of the soldiers around him to panic.

"Hold your ground!" he ordered. "When it shows itself, cut it down!"

He took cover behind a smoldering skycar when rounds smashed against his kinetic barriers. Several cannibals and marauders took shots at them from the second story of a ruined building. Before he could shout orders, the men and women of his patrol efficiently culled the ranks of the cannibals, causing the few marauders to take cover and fall back into the building.

"Captain Carver! Are you alright?" Private Bradley asked him, taking cover behind the same skycar.

"I'm fine, Bradley. They didn't get through my shields."

He looked at the rest of his Marines. No one suffered from any injuries. They all waited behind their own cover, awaiting his orders.

"Hold, Marines! There's still a banshee about!"

They didn't wait long before the mutated asari showed itself, climbing out of the rubble of a fallen building. Its long, blade-like fingers dripped with blood from a recent kill.

"Focus fire!"

He propped his Typhoon on the smoldering skycar he used as cover. All other noise ceased, drowned out by the cacophony automatic weapons fire against the banshee. It made it two steps before its barriers flared and failed. The heavy, constant fire of his Typhoon combined with inferno rounds set the monster's armor aflame, making it look even more nightmarish than before, but it soon fell, leaving a smoldering corpse in the ruined street.

"Excellent, Marines! Move out!" he ordered.

Before he could stand up, they were ambushed again, this time in far greater numbers as cannibals, marauders, and ravagers fired upon them from all directions.

"Take shelter in the buildings!" he ordered, trying to be heard over the noise of weapons fire.

The ground shook from heavy footsteps, and before he even stood up, his cover flew across the street. A brute stood over him, pieces of armor missing or full of holes. The small, brutalized, turian head glared at him with lifeless eyes. It raised its gigantic, lobster-like claw, ready to smash it down upon him, but its attention was diverted by weapons fire as one of his Marines fired upon it.

"Bradley! Run!" he cried.

Jackson's calls came too late. He watched the Marine get snatched up in the brute's claws and snapped in half, blood spraying everywhere. He tried to get away but the massive claw bashed into the ground behind him, and in moments the brute's hateful gaze hovered mere inches from his face.

"Wake up, sweetie," the brute said in a feminine, modulated voice.

"What?"

**Nos Astra – Day Three:**

He felt someone lying on him as he started to wake up. His vision came into focus, and he looked into the light-blue visor of a quarian who lay on top of him. His head rested upon her arms which were wrapped around his neck.

"Good morning, Jackson," she said.

"Lia?" he asked, recognizing the voice.

He blinked, surprise by the intrusion, and unsure of how he should react. He felt around the small of her back, looking for the weapon she had there the last time he saw her. All he found, though, was a belt pouch.

"If you're looking for my pistol, I don't have it on me. If … you're thinking of something else, well, I like where your head's at."

"Right," he said, removing his hands and resting them on the bed.

She sat up and straddled him. She wore a different suit from the one he saw her wear the night before. It was white with light-blue floral patterns stitched into it.

"I think I need to get my door's locking software changed," he said.

"Please, there isn't a lock out there that can stop me."

She got off the bed and pulled him with her. She commanded the blinds of his room to open, letting in the light of Tasale. He could see the vast body of dark-blue water his apartment building bordered, the white caps of its cresting waves flowing towards the white sands of the beach where he saw many people relaxing and playing games.

"What is the name of that body of water?" he asked.

"It's a sea, as you humans would call it. Its name is T'Lasia, named after some asari who was part of the group that discovered Illium," she explained. She entered his closet and he could hear her going through his clothes. "We have a lot to do today."

"What? What do you mean?" Jackson asked.

"Well, we have some clothes shopping to do, for starters. Your clothing is dreadful and should be burned." She walked out of his closet carrying a drab, grey and black pant-suit. "Do you bury the dead on the side?" She threw the suit on the floor.

The comment made him laugh and shake his head.

"Those were here when I woke up," he explained.

"Of course they were. They're yours."

He gave an exasperated sigh, and tried to figure out how to explain it to her.

"No. I mean, they were here when I woke up after being kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" she asked.

He saw her reflection in the window. She leaned up against the door frame of the closet and crossed her arms, waiting for his response.

"Yeah, it's a long story," he explained.

"Ok. You need to tell me this story, but over lunch."

"Lunch?"

"Yes, and you're buying. There's a nice café I know where they serve levo and dextro foods."

"Wait, hold on. We just met last night. Why are you doing this?" He couldn't help but feel that Lia had an ulterior motive to her kindness.

Lia went to the window and stared out of it a while before answering. He could see the waters of T'Lasia and the ivory colored beach reflected in her visor, and the glow of her eyes just barely visible through the reflection.

"I followed you around for a while before you made it to the warehouse. You reminded me, well, of me when I first came to Illium. Lonely, out of your element, and a bit stressed out." She paused and looked at him. "I wanted to help."

"Thanks," he said, his gaze falling to the floor, thinking about his crazy situation. "Wait! Is that how you knew where I lived?"

"Actually, I planted a small tracker on that mission datapad before I put it back in your pocket," she explained as she walked back to his closet. She started throwing more clothes on the floor saying, "Burn", as every piece of clothing flew out of the closet.

He sighed with the realization that she was growing on him.

"I know you're having fun and all," he said. "But I'm going to need something to wear."

She walked out of the closet and looked at him, placing her hands on her hips as if studying him. After a few moments she dug through the pile and threw a pair of black pants and a white, short-sleeved shirt.

"At least those are innocuous," she said. "I'll wait in the living room."

He watched her leave the room and he called after her, "Careful around the ferns! They have ears!"

"Huh?" she called back.

A few minutes later he walked into the living room to find Lia watching news on the vid screen.

"You have an interesting taste in entertainment," she said when he approached her.

"It was on that channel when I got here," he tried to explain, defensively.

"It's ok. I won't judge," she said.

"But …"

"Nope! Don't want to hear it."

He opened his mouth to try to protest, but she held up her hand to stop him.

_Great, now she's going to think I'm a perve._

"Just tell me one thing. Do I have to be blue to get your attention?" she asked.

He smirked as she approached him.

"You've already got my attention," he said.

"Good! Let's go eat!"

* * *

He sat at a table in a small café near one of Nos Astra's large shopping centers with Lia, poking at his waffle while he told his story, which took less time than he thought it would. When he finished, he looked around the café. A mixed crowd of people all dined there; asari, turians, krogan, quarians, humans, and even a couple of hanar. The décor was interesting as well. It was truly an intergalactic smorgasbord of art and pop culture, with pictures of famous people from different species, as well as famous quotes. One quote adorning the wall caught his attention.

"With all of his inspirational speeches throughout the Reaper War, the quote they chose for Commander Shepard was, "I should go"?

He heard Lia giggle off to the side while he continued to look around the café.

"So let me get this straight," Lia said, drawing his attention back to her. "A mysterious organization kidnapped you, brought here from Earth, prevented you from being able to leave Illium or get a job, and are giving you jobs to do for them and paying you well for each job?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up," he said.

"Oh, ok."

She grabbed a feeding tube from the table and inserted it into an apparatus on her helmet, not saying anything further on the subject, and gaining a questioning look from him.

"That's all you have to say? Ok?" He felt a little frustrated by her indifference.

"It's Illium," she said. She shrugged and switched to her drink which she sipped through a straw inserted into her helmet. "Oh, hey! I have something for you! I forgot to give it to you at your apartment." She pulled a small device from one of her pockets.

"An omni-tool?" he asked, accepting the device.

"Not just any omni-tool. It's a state-of-the-art Serrice Council Savant, just like mine."

He stared at the expensive device and activated it. A sleeve of shaped, orange light formed around his forearm.

"Let me guess, you _found_ this as well?" he asked, using heavy sarcasm.

"Actually, I bought it for you," she said.

He stared at her, surprised and not quite sure what to say.

"These things cost a small fortune, Lia. I can't possibly accept this."

"Of course you can. It's a gift." She placed a hand on his. "Keep it, it's yours." She rubbed her fingers along the top of his hand. "Besides, only the best for my new partner."

"Your new … partner?" he asked.

"Yup! You can't get a legitimate job, other than what this organization will give you, so, I'd like to have you as a partner. In return, I'll help you with any jobs you get as well."

He sighed. "Look, last night wasn't something I was comfortable with. I did it because I needed the money, and wasn't given much choice. You may be fine with it, but thief is not my first choice for a profession." He winced, hoping he didn't sound too harsh.

"Who said anything about being a thief? Yes, I'm good at it, and your 'organization' paid me well to do it, but it isn't my primary source of income."

She worked on her omni-tool and his toned, letting him know she transferred information to it.

"What is this?" he asked.

"They're detailed records of many missions I have done here on Illium. As you can see, the types of jobs vary. I'm a specialist for hire," she answered. "If someone needs my expertise, they hire me. Having you as a partner increases the type of jobs we can do. I excel in espionage and you excel in battle. I know that's an oversimplification, but you get the point."

"That's how the organization hired you for that job, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yup!"

He thought for a moment. The offer was compelling, making extra money on the side, keeping busy, and possibly providing a platform to find out about the organization and how to get out from under its thumb.

_Lia's a pretty good reason as well._ The thought made him smile.

"You know what," he said. "I'll take you up on your offer."

"Yay!" she cheered and clapped her hands, gaining looks from the other patrons. "C'mon.

Let's find you a new wardrobe. Then, later tonight, we'll burn the ones already in the apartment when we go to the beach."

"We're going to the beach?"

"Of course! You need to relax," she said. She giggled before continuing. "It's a far sight better than watching weird, naughty, asari cartoons."

"Gah! I used it as ambient noise to help me sleep my first night here!"

"Uh huh."

"You're not letting that go, are you?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Nope!" She excused herself from the table and skipped away. "Remember, you have the check!" she called.

* * *

Jackson loaded the last bags into Lia's skycar.

"I think you enjoyed this a lot more than I did," he observed.

"You didn't enjoy yourself?" she asked, sounding hurt.

"Honestly, I enjoyed watching you more than the shopping itself."

"Oh! I can live with that."

He smiled, thinking about the shopping trip. He wasn't entirely honest when he said he didn't enjoy himself. He enjoyed seeing the sights as they walked around the shopping center. Many brightly-colored, glowing signs adorned the gray metal walls of the shops, advertising their wares. Some shops drew his interest more than others, especially the weapons and armor shops. Lia stopped him from going in them, though, saying they could go to them on another day. There were other shops he'd never see on someplace like Earth. Some dealt with drugs, and he even saw one that acted as a satellite shop for one of the many indentured servitude companies.

He watched Lia as she put a bunch of her own bags in the back of the skycar while humming.

"Lia," he said. "I haven't said it yet, but thank you."

She looked at him for a moment, saying nothing, and at that moment he wished he could see her face.

"You're welcome, Jackson."

He smiled at her and started to get into the car when he noticed something further down the marketplace.

"What's up with that store?" he asked, pointing to a busy looking store. "It seems popular."

Lia looked where he pointed.

"That's 'The Human Element'," she said. "It's a master tailor shop that specializes in making vintage human clothing tailored for other species." She modeled for him. "They made this enviro-suit for me. It's called 'Tropical Dreamin'."

"Nice. I'll have to check it out sometime. Do they make clothing for humans?"

"I don't see why not. They're tailors," she said.

He looked around a bit more until he felt a tug on his arm. Lia sat in her car, beckoning for him to get in. Within moments, the black skycar rocketed away from the mall as they headed back to his apartment.

* * *

The warm, white sands of T'Lasia's beach felt wonderful on Jackson's back as he lay in the light of Tasale. It was the first time he relaxed since he came to Illium. The sound of the dark blue waves flowing against the beach helped him relax, as well. The water exuded an odor different from what he was used to, a sort of citrus smell. Faraway laughter graced his ears, a game of Caleston sand ball broke out among some of the beachgoers.

He heard Lia laughing while playing the game with the other players. He understood why she didn't spend much time lying in the sand.

_Kind of pointless while in an enviro-suit,_ he thought as he watched her play.

He closed his eyes and continued to enjoy the feel of the sun on his skin. In a few moments he heard feet padding up to him.

"Jackson, don't be dull, come and play!" Lia said, standing over him.

He looked up at her, her eyes barely visible through the mask of her light-red enviro-suit. She changed it when they were back at his apartment. She called it her "beach outfit".

"I'm happy, right where I am, relaxing," he said.

"Ugh! Borrrring!"

Something caught her attention and she ran off, leaving him in peace. He closed his eyes, preparing to relax, again, when he heard feet padding back towards him.

"Lia, please. Let me rest," he said.

There was no answer; instead, he felt sharp, pointy things land on his belly and move up his chest. He opened his eyes and looked at Lia, who stood over him.

"Lia? What are you doing?" he asked.

"It's not me."

A pair of long, yellow eyestalks appeared in front of his eyes when he looked down toward his belly.

"Gah!" He sent the creature sprawling in the sand when he leapt to his feet. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a crillion," she answered.

He studied the creature, which righted itself on the sand and crawled toward him.

"It looks like a crab," he observed, watching the crillion as it stopped at his feet and looked up at him. It made a weird, chittering sound at him.

Lia opened her omni-tool, and after a few moments she replied, "They're fairly similar, if a bit smarter, and four claws at the end of each forelimb."

She handed what looked like a small piece of meat to him. "Feed it, that's what it wants."

He took the small morsel and handed it to the crillion, which snatched it out of his hand and gobbled it up. It scurried off toward the water while making ecstatic chittering noises.

"So what was that about?" he asked.

"I just wanted to introduce you to some of the local 'wildlife'," she said. "Aaaand, also to show you something you should never do."

"Huh?"

She leaned close to him and whispered, "Don't feed the crillions."

He watched Lia skip away while she giggled and pointed toward the water.

His eyes widened when he looked toward the water. Hundreds of the chittering critters burst from the dark blue water and rushed toward him.

"Shit!" He ran after Lia, who still skipped, oblivious to him running up behind her.

"Eep!" she squealed when he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"If I have to run, then you're coming with me!" he yelled.

He laughed as he ran and watched her legs kick the air in front of him.

"Now this is fun!" he called back to her.

"Bosh'tet!" She struggled in his grip and he could hear her grunt every time she bounced on his shoulder.

He bounded across the white sand, passing by several food stands and outdoor bars while beachgoers made fun of the "new guy".

"Next time bring more food, human!" a turian wearing a brightly colored, floral shirt called out to him.

Jackson stopped and stared at the turian.

"Are you wearing a Hawaiian shirt?" he asked.

"What's a Hawaiian?" the turian asked.

Before he could answer, the chittering got louder. He took off again, Lia complaining with each stride. After running for a while and suffering the ridicule of everyone around him, the chittering died down and Lia urged him to stop running. He watched as all the crillions returned to the sea, disturbing a few asari and human sunbathers along the way.

"You can put me down now," Lia said.

He set her back down on the sand and started heading back to his spot on the beach. Lia fell in step beside him.

"That was actually kind of fun," she said. "And we got pretty far. I must say you have excellent stamina."

Jackson smiled and shook his head.

"You're terrible, Lia," he said. "And I'll get you back for the crabs." He crossed his eyes after realizing what he just said.

"Crillions, Jackson. They're called, crillions."

He paid more attention to some of the food shacks and bars that littered the beach as they headed back to get their stuff. A lot of them were built to look different from the rest of the city. Instead of the futuristic, asari designed skyscrapers of metal that pierced the sky; these shacks were made of various types of wood found throughout the galaxy. One place caught his eye; its offerings included several types of human beer. Bamboo made up the shack itself, as well as the furniture inside.

"Let's go there after we get our stuff," he recommended, pointing at the shack. "Running works up an appetite."

_Not to mention I could use some human beer,_ he thought.

She agreed and worked on her omni-tool all the way back to her skycar. He grabbed his duffel bag that lay open on the beach and pulled out a white, button-up shirt that matched the white shorts he wore. He closed the bag and left it in Lia's car while they headed back to the shack.

* * *

He ordered a tasty, dark ale imported from Germany, and a couple of spicy sausages. Apparently, the place carried dextro versions because Lia ordered an amber stout and sipped it through a straw. She leaned on the table and stared at him while playing with her straw.

"You know it's not polite to stare," he said.

"Depends on why I'm staring," she replied. Even though her mask concealed her face, her eyes glowed enough that he could see mischief in them.

Before he could remark, however, an angry turian wearing an unbuttoned, blue Hawaiian shirt took a seat at their table. The turian had a gold, metal-like carapace visible through his open shirt. There were no colonial markings on his face, something which Jackson hadn't seen before.

"You paid me less than owed, Lia," the turian said.

"Your intel wasn't complete, Tullius. The alarm activated thanks to a pressure sensor in the vault."

"A pressure sensor?" Tullius asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Yes, Tullius. A pressure sensor."

They both stared at each other for what felt like an age. Jackson could feel tension building between Lia and Tullius, and it made him feel a little uncomfortable.

"Perhaps I should leave you two to work this out," he said as he started to leave the bamboo table.

"No!" Lia cried. "Please stay. We'll be done in a moment."

They continued to glare at each other, until a blue hand appeared next to Tullius' face.

"Pay up, Tullius," the asari said.

"We're not even done here, Cyana!" the turian replied.

The asari, Cyana, invited herself to their table and addressed Tullius. She was somewhat typical of asari. She dressed elegantly, her robes fitting her snugly and showing off her bright blue skin. A dark-purple starburst pattern adorned her face.

"Please, Tullius. If you haven't won by now, then your little contest is already over," she said, running a lithe finger along one of his mandibles. "That means you owe me a hundred credits."

"Fine," Tullius said, transferring the credits to her with his omni-tool.

Lia looked at Jackson and winked.

"Jackson, meet Tullius Kurim and Cyana Nyxura. They're also partners," she said while gesturing to them.

"Ah, so the Crillion King is our new associate," Tullius observed, making Lia giggle.

"Oh, great, I have a nickname now!" Jackson said, taking a long drink from his ale. "You saw that, huh?"

"I think most of Nos Astra's coastline saw that," Cyana answered.

Jackson sighed and ordered another ale, this one of a lighter, yet stronger, fare from Canada. Tullius, Lia, and Cyana all ordered their own drinks as well, while Lia sent a file to each of their omni-tools. He opened the file, bringing up a dossier of some salarian businessman. There were some other dossiers in the file as well. He browsed through them, most of the rest of the dossiers reading like a prison roster comprised of batarians, krogan, vorcha, humans and turians. Only one other dossier stood out from the rest. A young man, an inventor according to the dossier, who came up with some new weapons designs.

"This is the story," Lia started to explain. "The salarian is our client. He owns a small weapons manufacturing business that specializes in high-end, and very expensive, weapons and mods. What makes his weapons stand-out from the competitors, are the designs of the young human inventor, David, whose dossier is also included. The rest are some of the more prominent, and visible, members of the gang that kidnapped the inventor."

"It says here that David is an indentured servant to this businessman," Jackson noted, concerned.

"Yes," Lia answered. "He incurred considerable debt while trying to start his own unsuccessful business." Lia looked at him, noticing the concern on his face. "There are worse ways to pay back debt, Jackson. He's fed and cared for quite well from my understanding."

"Is that going to be a problem, human?" Tullius asked him.

"No, sorry, what else can you tell us?"

He still felt uncomfortable with the idea of indentured servitude, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He listened as Lia continued to detail the various gang members and their known locations.

"Tullius, I want you to dig up some intel with your contacts. Try and find out where they are holding this David. Once we know that information we can then plan a course of action to get him back."

"On it," Tullius said. "Nice to meet you, Jackson." He finished his drink and left the shack, walking out into the growing dusk.

"Cyana, I want you to talk to this human gang member, Ryan Feldman. You may be able to get some information out of him."

"Understood," she answered and left without another word.

Jackson felt a slight chill down his spine as the asari rudely bumped into him. He turned to protest but only got her back as she rushed out the door. He looked at Lia, who held her hand up to stop him.

"Don't mind her. She's not overly fond of humans. In fact, that is why I gave her that one to talk to. She enjoys deceiving them very much, and is quite good at it," she explained.

"How am I supposed to work with her then?" he asked, unable to mask the worry in his voice.

"For now, you won't. Eventually, you'll grow on her. Until then, you're all mine."

"I can live with that," he said, relieved that he would continue to work with Lia.

He looked at his empty mug, tempted to order another drink. He felt like he could start losing himself in drink again; act like none of this was even happening. He raised a hand to order but Lia grabbed his hand before he could do so.

"No more for you tonight. See that nice bonfire they've made outside?"

He looked outside, noticing a large bonfire, at least 15 feet tall, burning a short distance down the beach. A throng of people gathered around it and music started to play. Lia paid their tabs and grabbed his hands, pulling him out of his seat and onto the white sand under the stars.

"Come on! Enough talk of business. I'll tell you more later. Let's dance!"


End file.
